


Sugar, spice and a lot of pumpkin pies

by IggysBunny



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Chubby America (Hetalia), Halloween, M/M, No countries, Pumkin pies, Slow Burn, UKUS, USUK - Freeform, Weight Gain, alternative universe, because why not, eating contest, soon to be - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IggysBunny/pseuds/IggysBunny
Summary: Arthur is broke because of his roommate Alfred, so he finds a way for Alfred to pay, which turns out to be pleasurable for both of them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't plan on posting this in April, but hey, I might as well finish it just in time for the next Halloween.

The sky is ash-like and it's raining. The drops keep  drumming on the window sill steadily, creating a relaxing rhythm- at least for Arthur, who's sitting by the table, running a hand through his hair desperately. It's almost October, the semester has just begun, and yet, according to his calculations, somehow he and his roommate Alfred are pretty much broke already.  
  
Arthur is glad the rain has at least a slightly calming effect on him, otherwise he would explode from anger. He doesn't understand. He even has a job! A terrible one, in a supermarket. He isn't keen on people much, but he gets paid. And still, the money is gone before he realizes he has it.  
  
Alfred doesn't work, however he claims to be trying to find something. Arthur doesn't know if he can trust him. He feels like he shouldn't.  
  
The more Arthur thinks about Alfred, the more he realizes that bloody idiot might be the reason of his financial problems. He eats most of the food Arthur buys, and sometimes borrows money from him- The pair of bushy eyebrows knits. Of course, Alfred needs money for the gym, Arthur gives it to him without questioning it. Alfred  forgets his wallet somewhere, luckily Arthur is there to save the situation and to pay for their food.  
The Brit feels stupid. He didn't realize until now how much money Alfred gets from him. He grits his teeth, stands up and approaches the window. The trees are brightly coloured, they contrast with the dull sky.    
  
It's hard for Arthur to resist his cute, handsome roommate, even though he doesn't want to admit it.  
Arthur tries to focus on the autumn nature, he can feel how tense his body is. It's not healthy, he thinks as he tries to ease up a tad. His efforts are soon ruined as he sees his roommate, Alfred, running to the dorms, soaked and without an umbrella.  
Arthur's teeth are gritted so hard it almost hurts. He heads to sit down.  
Soon, the door opens and shuts, and a wet tall-ish figure appears in the room, panting. "Oh, dude... forgot my umbrella...."  
Arthur turns around, slowly. His expression is ice cold.  
"Woah-" Alfred widens his eyes. "What's... wrong?"  
Silence.  
"Arthur?"  
Nothing again.  
"Dude, you seem to be pissed...." Alfred frowns and approaches him. "Did you have a bad day?" He tilts his head, his expression soft.  
  
Arthur glances away, unable to look into his eyes with a distant expression for too long. Alfred is basically a human puppy- which gets whatever he wants. How outrageous.  
  
Arthur sighs. "I need my money back, Alfred. The money you owe me, for instance."  
  
The taller man is genuinely confused. "What? Why? You broke?"  
  
The other rolls his eyes and stands up, arms crossed over his lithe chest. "Try to guess."  
  
"How could that happen? Seriously..." Alfred loses his colour as the realization hits him. If Arthur has no money, he has no money either. His parents don't send him much. Arthur is basically his saviour.  
He gasps. "We need to do something about it!"  
  
Arthur's eyebrows perk up. "Excuse me, _we_?! You should simply find yourself a job!"  
  
"But Arthur." Alfred starts with a genuine tone. "Believe me, I'm working on it.... But it's not that ea-"  
  
"You know what, I'll find you something." Arthur snaps. "By the beginning of October, you'll be working your perky arse off!" He feels like he's on fire, his cheeks are burning as he storms out, into the hallway, leaving Alfred standing in shock.  
  
~~~  
  
It's been four days. Four rainy, busy days for Arthur. He hasn't managed to find the job for Alfred anywhere, and, admittedly, he's starting to feel a bit desperate.  
  
He's out in the town centre, passing cafés and shops and restaurants, but it seems like no one needs new employees. And so Arthur walks down the street tiredly, holding a black umbrella to protect himself from the raindrops. He knows very well that tomorrow, October begins.  
  
He stops, and looks at his reflection in one of the windows of some patisserie. His shoes are soaked, his coat is wrinkled, his hair is messy and as he glares at his hair, he comes to the conclusion he has a bitch face on. Letting out a huff, he rolls his eyes and turns to leave. Then freezes, and looks at the window again, approaching it.  
  
A contest. A pumpkin pie eating  contest, with the prize being a thousand pounds! His eyes widen, then narrow and his slight pout turns into a smirk as he's reading more about the competition. Apparently, the participants have to eat two pies every day for 30 days- that is, from 1st to 30th October. Everyone, who manages to complete the task, gets a thousand  pounds. It seems too good to be true. Arthur walks inside of the patisserie to get more information, an evil plan building inside of his head. It doesn't take a long time before he walks out with a smug grin, grasping a confirmation of registration in his hand, the name already filled out with a neatly written _Alfred F. Jones_.  
  
He feels so satisfied on the way home. The sense of accomplishment's filling Arthur up with happiness. He enters the dorm room unnoticeably only to find Alfred  lazily sprawled across the floor on his stomach, playing a video game.  
  
The shorter man silently creeps in, stealing a glance at the round butt sticking out in front of the sofa. He has to admit at least to himself: Alfred looks... rather attractive. He is tall, has a charming smile, beautiful eyes and his arse-! Arthur quickly decides not to think about his roommate that way, mostly because the fantasies cause an uprising in his pants, and shuts the door, causing the other to jerk and huff and look towards the door quickly in panic.  
  
As he sees it's only Arthur, Alfred gives him a smile, sitting up properly.  
"Hey Artie!"  
  
Arthur rolls his eyes. "For God's sake, don't call me like that, please...." He takes off his coat and shoes and walks to the bathroom to put his soaked umbrella there.  
  
His roommate observes him shortly, then asks, "So, you found anything?"  
  
With a playful smile, Arthur leans against the doorframe casually. "Of course I have. And I dare to say you will even enjoy it..." His voice is uncharacteristically deep and mysterious.  
  
Alfred raises his brows. "Really? That's.... um.... interesting...", he murmurs and bites his lip.  
  
"Oh, yes..." Arthur nods. "I wouldn't even call it a _job_ , per se..."  
  
As expected, the American seems perplexed, but interested, so Arthur approaches him swiftly, sitting down on the floor next to him. "Here," he hands the other the registration, "I think you'll actually love it."  
  
There's a short moment of silence while Alfred reads. His expression has changed from a baffled to a surprised one. "Is it a joke or can I really get a thousand bucks for eating cakes?", he asks, looking up at Arthur, who nods.  
  
"I knew you'd like the idea." He smiles sweetly and gently pats the taller's shoulder.  
  
Alfred looks genuinely intrigued by the idea, Arthur notices. His eyes sparkle like the surface of an azure sea on a sunny day. His lips are curled upwards lightly, and he looks positively delightful as he, probably without realizing it, grazes his tongue along his lower lip. He's probably thinking about the pies already, Arthur concludes. How adorable...  
  
He takes a deep breath to keep calm, because he sort of wishes to be the one grazing his tongue along Alfred's lips, or maybe along his jaw, or his neck, or-  
  
Wide-eyed, Arthur finds himself staring into Alfred's eyes. The American must've turned to face him while Arthur was licking his own lips and staring at him seductively (although not on purpose), judging by the cherry colour of his cheeks.  
  
"D-dude?", he starts carefully, "you okay?" He looks unusually bashful and innocent, and Arthur isn't sure if it's been caused by him, but he really wishes it was.  
  
The answer's a simple nod. Arthur clears his voice. "And what have you been doing?", he asks to change the emerging topic.  
  
His thoughts, however, remain full of the fantasies about his roommate. He can't simply help it- Arthur would love to know every inch of Alfred, but for now, he can only imagine most of him. The American never really walks around shirtless, which in Arthur's point of view is a pity, because whatever he's hiding under his t-shirt, the Brit knows he'd love it.  
  
"I was just playing some games... I went to the gym for some time... you haven't been gone for long, though." Alfred laughs shortly with a shrug. "So yeah, that's about it."  
  
Arthur arches a thick brow, once again getting lost in his thoughts of Alfred, whose eyes are back on the screen again. He thinks about Alfred in the gym, getting all sweaty, but toned, but exhausted, but attractive, but... toned...?- his eyes widen as he makes himself confused. The proof of Alfred's few hours a week spent by working out isn't really evident- at least not much on his arms or legs, which are the only parts Arthur can observe. They have some definition, but don't show too much of it. That is probably caused by Alfred's ridiculous diet, and the facts Alfred prefers running to lifting weighs, if he remembers correctly.  
Nevertheless, Arthur feels like it wouldn't be much of a difference if the American ditched his work-outs. The Brit is certain he would still like Alfred- for whatever reason he does now.  
  
He stares at the other's body, slowly observing each part, from the arch of his nose, his Adam's apple, to his chest, rising more rapidly due to the excitement from the video game, to his waist, where the loose t-shirt covers probably-not-abs, to his crotch and thighs and bare feet and Alfred doesn't even notice, engulfed in the game.  
  
~~~  
  
The day has come. Alfred is lying in his bed, trying to keep on sleeping despite the fact he very well knows he can't, because Arthur, who's getting ready in the bathroom,  would murder him if he wasn't ready in like- he checks the time on his phone and his eyes go big- two minutes! So he kicks away his sheets, sits up and grabs his clothes (which by the way are hidden crunched up under the bed so Arthur can't see and Alfred doesn't have to clean it up), and quickly changes before his roommate returns from the bathroom.  
  
By the time Arthur walks out the bathroom door, clothed, clean and ready to leave, Alfred stands next to his bed, fully dressed. He has a lazy style, consisting of plaid shirt and colorful tees. But it could be easily mistaken for Alfred being geeky or hipster- and he doesn't even try. Arthur likes the way his roommate dresses, though. Quite a lot.  
It may be simply because Arthur likes his roommate. _Quite a lot._  
  
He is making his bed at the moment, which pleases Arthur.  
  
"Good lad~", Arthur pats Alfred's back, almost purring, voice velvety and accent thick. "The bathroom's yours now."  
  
And so Alfred brushes his teeth with the speed of light, along with doing everything he needs. He leaves the bathroom and snatches his bag and jacket. Arthur waits for him to put his sneakers on, and they both leave to have breakfast.  
  
~~~  
  
The patisserie is quite packed, and Alfred notices there are some people eating a pumpkin pie already. It smells heavenly there, and he goes to take a seat while Arthur does whatever he said he had to do while Alfred wasn't fully listening.  
  
The queue in front of the cashier is not terribly long, and Arthur truly doesn't mind waiting. He's British, after all. Queues are almost exciting for him. In the meanwhile, he appreciates the style, the furniture and decorations- it's all really sweet and it reminds him of a fairytale, really. Or a shop in Disneyland, at least.  
The pastel colours and a lot of white, pictures of cakes and cupcakes on the walls, the sweet, comforting smell, the staff in adorable uniforms- a frilly blue pastel shirt and a pair of white trousers, and a variety of bowties.  
  
Arthur also notices some autumn and Halloween decorations, giving the place a festive atmosphere. Once it's finally his turn in the line, he orders a cuppa and a muffin for himself and, well, a pumpkin pie for Alfred, along with a latte he usually has every time they eat out.  
  
On his way back to the table, he realizes a latte is probably not a great idea to order for someone who's supposed to eat a whole cake...  
  
Surprisingly- well, unsurprisingly, at this point of their friendship, Alfred seems just as excited for his coffee as always, pouring a hearty portion of sugar in. "Aw, I don't even need to tell you how I like my coffee, dude...", he says with a cute smile sent Arthur's way, while stirring the "coffee flavoured sugary milk" (at least that's what Arthur considers it).  
  
"You always have the same one, literally everywhere, so it's not a wild guess." Arthur sounds a bit harshly, because controlling his emotions around Alfred is a task difficult for him to complete.  
  
Alfred doesn't seem to mind the tone, and takes a sip of the coffee with his lips still curled upwards. Arthur chuckles as the other's glasses fog up. He frowns with a small pout, and Arthur's previously more or less cold expression melts into a soft, mushy smile, with his head resting on top of his hands, as he's supporting himself on the table, fingers intertwined.  
  
His roommate is, in one word, precious... _Sometimes_ , Arthur adds in his head, partially still in denial about his feelings towards the man sitting opposite to him.  
  
Once their order is brought to Alfred, however, his eyes go wide, and not in the good way. He seems to be filled with worry.  
  
"Well, Alfred, go on, enjoy your... meal~" Arthur smirks lightly, taking his muffin.  
  
"This is bigger than- than I expected...." Alfred murmurs, reluctantly grabbing his fork.  
  
Arthur shrugs. "It should be a few centimeters smaller in diameter than a regular cake, but what did you expect in a competition, a baby-sized one...? Oh, and by the way, you have to eat the whole thing- otherwise I will have to pay for that monstrosity..."  
  
"What do you mean...?" Alfred's focused on the cake and his fork's slowly digging into it.  
  
Arthur observes him, then sighs, "I did give you a leaflet to read- how naïve of me... Well, if you do indeed eat this, today and every other day, I pay only for one piece of the cake. If you don't eat it whole, I'll pay for the whole cake. If you manage not to eat it whole three times, you're out of the game." Once he's done explaining, he takes a delicate bite of the muffin, still eyeing Alfred.  
  
"How is that beneficial for them?!" The American's brows are furrowed, but once he bites into the cake, his eyes shut and his face look calmly and peacefully.  
  
Arthur chuckles. "I don't know, asks the organizers..."  
  
However, Alfred doesn't reply anymore, his tastebuds busying him way too much.  
  
Forty minutes later, with a half of the cake gone, Arthur, (who after finishing his muffin could calmly observe Alfred in action), notices that he's slowing down. Obviously, it's understandable. Eating one half of a cake is quite difficult, let alone eating two halves. Arthur himself finds it hard to eat two pieces, if he is to be frank.  
  
So he decides to help Alfred a bit. Not by eating some of the cake, that would be cheating- by simple coaxing.  
  
"You're doing great~" He smiles supportively, patting Alfred's knee under the table lightly.  
  
His roommate looks at him, swallowing a bite of the cake. "Thanks..? Ehm...", he says unsurely. He returns to a slightly increased speed of eating, occasionally sipping on the coffee, but it doesn't last long.  
  
Only few minutes after finishing the half, Alfred feels like bursting. Knowing he can't move quickly or else he might puke, he places a hand on his stomach. He knows he has to look horrible- his cheeks are heated and his hair is messy and Arthur keeps giving him an odd look, which Alfred explains to himself as bossy. Of course, he wants the money back, so he needs to make sure Alfred doesn't cheat or end up disqualified or something. So far, the American managed to push himself into each bite by thinking about finding an actual job, which would suck much more than eating a stupid cake, but now, with a bit more than a quarter left...  
He needs a longer pause, as he gently rubs his stomach hoping it will ease the pain.  
  
Arthur's thoughts, however, are very different from what Alfred expects. The Brit watches Alfred's hair, his red cheeks, his slightly laboured breathing- and he has to control himself, because one thought keeps reoccurring to him that makes him way too horny- sleeping with Alfred.  
  
Because, honestly?  
  
The American looks so tastefully disheveled, his appearance now can't be too far from what he looks like in bed, underneath Arthur...  
  
"Are you... uh... okay?" Alfred manages to asks, feeling almost sleepy.  
  
Arthur widens his eyes, shaking his head lightly to wake up from his fantasies. "Y-yes, of course... are you, though?" He tilts his head, feeling slightly concerned now, because of the other's absent look.  
  
"Yes... mmm... I just need a moment..." Alfred nods, closing his eyes. He would love to curl up, but he isn't backing off as easily.  
  
"Good, good..." The Brit murmurs.  
  
Suddenly a man in a uniform different from the waiter's, Arthur guesses it could be cook's or maybe even chef's, appears by their table. He has that big hat on his head, with a few strands of his long-ish blond hair peaking out, he has a slight stubble and a smile on his face.  
  
"'Ello~ I saw you two sitting here, eating my delicious cake- I hope it's as delicious as you are~" Giving Alfred a long, lustful look, he continues, "I figured you must've signed up for zhe... competition~" He winks at Alfred, who watches him and turns slightly more red, glancing away.  
  
Arthur already dislikes the man, not only because he's French, but because he dares to wink at (his) Alfred. "Hello... Yes, my... friend here is competing... May I ask you why you came here? We have our order already.", he says, ice-cold.  
  
"Oh, oui, I came to remind you, you 'ave only twenty minutes left~ But you are doing very well, very well indeed, so I wouldn't worry much."  
  
"Twenty- what..?" Alfred frowns slightly, dumbfounded.  
  
Arthur sighs. "I forgot to tell you-"  
  
The Frenchman suddenly interrupts him. "You have 90 minutes for each cake, mon ami~" He smiles sweetly at Alfred.  
  
"Can you please let me finish talking...?!" Arthur's eyes are acidic, in both literal and metaphorical sense.  
  
"Ohonhonhon, my dear, I can make sure you and your dear friend will be disqualified right away~ So please, don't speak to me in zhat tone~"  
  
Arthur feels like he might explode. "Aren't you just a cook here?", he snaps, glaring at the man, who laughs.  
  
"Oh? Me? I'm Francis Bonnefoy, I own this place-" Arthur would swear he saw the word bitch mouthed by Francis. But the man sticks his nose up into the air and leaves with grace before Arthur can react.  
  
In his outrage, he doesn't even notice Alfred wolfing down the rest of the cake in panic until only a normal portion is left, Alfred's cheeks resemble a chipmunk's and he almost starts choking, letting out a muffled cough.  
  
"Good lord, here-" Arthur shoves his cup of coffee into his hand, Alfred takes a sip, and washes it all down before he coughs again. "Love, you can't eat so quickly!"  
  
Alfred looks at Arthur wide-eyed, still coughing lightly into his fist, and Arthur mirrors his expression, as they both realise what Arthur has just said.  
  
"Uh- we-we British people use that word-", he explains quickly with a light blush, while Alfred becomes really red. "I'm so sorry..."  
  
Alfred stays quiet for a moment, then looks at Arthur. "It's okay, dude..." He starts eating the rest of the cake again, very slowly now.  
  
Arthur avoids watching him this time, so he is suddenly very aware of the time, and how slowly it drags. Luckily, Alfred soon lets out a deep sigh.  
  
"Gosh- I- I might burst-" The American shuts his eyes with a painful expression, both of his arms wrapped around his middle.  
  
"But you managed to eat it all, Alfred- continue like this and soon we'll have the money in my wallet~" Arthur smirks lightly, and is a bit nicely surprised that Alfred doesn't comment on that. But observing him more, the Brit realises his roommate is probably way too focused on other things- like his painfully stuffed stomach- to notice.  
  
Nevertheless, Arthur feels satisfied- no matter how much he craves Alfred, he craves the much needed money more, since he is broke.  
  
Arthur waits some more, simply watching the other, and once Alfred is able to leave the patisserie, both he and Arthur say bye to each other, both having planned a rather busy Sunday.  
  
They meet again only in the evening, at the same spot where they parted ways. Arthur spent the day at work, Alfted, however, had to visit a library to read some books on Ancient Greece. A busy day indeed. Soon they found themselves seated. Arthur had already had dinner, so he simply has some herbal tea, and Alfred looks unexpectedly excited.  
  
"Have you had a good day so far?", asks Arthur, amused.  
  
Alfred nods. "Well, yeah~ Today was good. I didn't even feel really sick eventually, and I studied some Greek stuff. I only had a salad because I wasn't hungry at all... but gosh, I feel so tired and even hungry now, from all the reading..." He sighs. "Anyway, that pie is awesome, I can't wait to have more~"  
  
Arthur listens to him in disbelief, he'd expect Alfred to be sick just by the sheer thought of that meal. But then again, Alfred is really into food, so it's not that big of a deal, really.  
  
Soon enough, one sips on his tea while the other is wolfing down the pie. Arthur catches a glimpse of the Frenchman from the morning, however he can never tell what that smelly frog is supposed to be doing. It almost looks as if he was stalking them- Arthur decides to ignore him and focus on his lovely roommate making him money by doing what he seems to really enjoy.  
  
It takes quite some time, but Alfred does eat the cake whole in time. He feels a bit confused and sleepy and keeps shifting lightly, trying to find a position in which his tummy would not ache for at least a moment. In the end, he decides the best thing to do is to somehow get home, where he can curl up on his bed. Therefore, Arthur slowly helps him stand, and leads him home in a calm pace.  
  
Once home, Alfred does as he's planned, gently rubbing his middle to soothe the pain, and Arthur pretends to study, while secretly he is fascinated by Alfred's attitude, behaviour and determination, even though it's all just about pies. Well, also about the money. The American is out of it in the matter of minutes, Arthur covers him and spends the rest of the evening thinking about how sweet the other looks while he sleeps.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Alfred knows there's some tension between them, he's not completely oblivious. He's just not fully certain of the outcome. Arthur could be more than his best friend... But does he want to be?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Francis is getting involved more than the two of them, while Al and Arthur are still feeling awkward about admitting their feelings.

It's been a week since Alfred joined the competition. According to Francis, who's basically become a friend to Alfred, one half of the competitors have dropped out, or failed to continue. It pleases the American, but he also feels weird about it.  
Sure, he's proud of himself, but is it really something to be proud of? A tiny, mature part of his conscience doesn't like this whole thing, while the majority of it prides itself, because Alfred's managed to actually have quite normal lunch instead of a salad for two days already.

Surprisingly, the pies don't make him feel sick yet. Francis keeps alternating a thing or two in the recipe, and even though the American wouldn't ever expect it, it does make enough of a difference for him to feel like it's a new cake every time. A bit of chocolate or vanilla can change a lot. The French chef helps him to keep going too, being as supportive as Arthur, if not more. Alfred truly wonders why the guy is so engaged, and why he's not like that around the other competitors.

Although there is one thing the more adult-like part of him managed to set as a sort of a goal (for last week, that is). He planned to hit the gym at least four times- because of so many pies, he decided to double his visits there- but Alfred discovered he can't handle that along with school. The truth is he probably could, but he's sometimes too lazy to go even twice. And he refuses to work out during weekends, that's his time to relax and study some more.  
He's managed to go three times that week, but felt like it wouldn't work the following one.

It's the 8th of October, another Sunday. Alfred certainly doesn't feel like leaving his dorm. The weather is bad and rainy, and Arthur pays a surprising amount of attention to him (which he enjoys a lot), he even took a day off. In a week, the dorm room feels much more like home than ever before.  
They've had their breakfast at the patisserie and Alfred feels like not moving for at least an hour.

"We should watch a movie...", Arthur suggests casually, setting up some pillows on his bed so they can sit comfortably there.

The other nods slowly, not feeling very lively. "Yep, okay dude..."

"What would you like to watch?"

"Um, you can choose-" Alfred murmurs, too lazy to think too much, spread on his own bed.

Arthur looks at his roommate, taking a moment to observe him not so inconspicuously.

The American looks very calm, breathing slowly- the other can tell by watching his chest. That's not what really captures his attention though. There is a new element to Alfred's body.

Previously, when he lay down, his belly was flat, close to concave, but now, it is slightly sticking out, not enough to make his tee stretch, but still noticeably enough (for Arthur's observant eyes). Obviously, it's because of his rather big breakfast, Arthur concludes, but it's interesting indeed.

The Brit looks back at the screen, his cheeks lightly pink. He feels like he should stop being such a creep, noticing such details, but the truth is, he can't help it. So he quickly tries to find something good for them to watch, something Alfred and he would both enjoy- and ends up picking some Marvel classic.

"Alfred? Move your arse here." He almost adds 'please', but decides not to.

The other grunts, then murmurs, "Artie, I don't feel... like moving...."

"Sure." Arthur rolls his eyes, but isn't really annoyed on the inside, and moves to Alfred's bed along with the laptop, placing it on his chest, then returns for the pillows.

In the meanwhile, Alfred sits up and settles the laptop on a tiny bedside table, and lets Arthur place few pillows around him and crawl on the bed to sit next to Alfred.

Arthur sits down rather close, his arm touches Alfred's, but the latter doesn't complain, therefore the Brit has no urge to move further away from him. He moves to click on the play button, when Alfred pokes his side.

"No popcorn?" He asks innocently; big blue eyes looking at Arthur, who basically has no other choice but to go make some (yes, he could refuse, but he doesn't really want to).

"Of course, I forgot- well, it's more like I didn't expect you to be able to down a bowl of popcorn after your breakfast, but-", he pokes Alfred's belly with a finger lightly, "-I suppose you've got more space in there already." With a smirk, he stands up, and leaves the slightly taken aback Alfred stare at him wide-eyed, heading for the area of the "kitchen".

Alfred watches him leave and ends up staring at nothing, thinking- because yes, he certainly wouldn't want popcorn after the first cake he's had. Yet in a week, he already feels like he could. Of course, Arthur will have some too, it's not like he himself will have the whole bowl of it, he argues with himself. Even though he doesn't truly believe that.

Arthur is back with a bowl of buttery popcorn, which smells heavenly, and settles down just as close, if not a bit closer to Alfred than before, then starts the film.

By the middle, Alfred's almost done with the snack, and lays his head onto Arthur's shoulder.

And Arthur feels like his heart is going to burst. Alfred is so casual about it! As if it was something guys just did any god damn time! He probably tenses up noticeably, or maybe he's breathing pattern changes, because Alfred lifts his head up lightly to look at him. "Everything okay?" He asks, so honestly and purely it makes Arthur's heart throb.

"Yes-" He replies quickly and looks back at the screen, laying his hand on Alfred's head to imply he can rest it back on his shoulder, and as he does so, Arthur touches his cheek, and dies inside because it's so soft and smooth and perfect and he wishes to place a thousand kisses on both of them.

Nevertheless, he pulls away, and spends the rest of the movie wondering if Alfred, who's taller than him, is comfortable in that position, if he enjoys it, if he's done it in a friendly, no-homo way, and if that is even possible.

The American simply munches on the popcorn until the bowl's empty, and feels more and more tired. His eyelids grow heavier as the movie plays and despite all the action, he dozes off on Arthur's not exactly comfortable, bony shoulder. It's as if Arthur's very presence lulled him to sleep.

Once Arthur notices, he widens his eyes, stops the film, takes Alfred's bowl from him carefully, placing it on the table, and finally, he starts reading. He keeps glancing at his roommate from time to time, feeling all mushy inside. It's a real honour for Arthur, having Alfred fall sleep on his shoulder.

He wants to hug him, but doesn't, because waking his precious crush up would be a tragedy. And because, well, he can't. You

And so he reads, and he waits.

When Alfred wakes up, his neck is sore- he raises his head, and unsurely looks into Arthur's eyes. The Brit didn't push him away the whole time.

It feels nice, and Alfred gives Arthur a small smile.

"Were you comfortable in that position? You looked like a Crooked man," Arthur says neutrally.

Alfred shrugs. "Yeah, pretty much~ Although my neck hurts a bit, but I don't mind." He shrugs.

"Huh. Alright then... It's almost 1 o'clock, by the way. Would you like to get some lunch?"

"Sure thing!", the American exclaims, all awake.

~~~

When he and Arthur come back to their dorm, Alfred is slightly surprised by his realization. He has always been quite an eater, but a week in the challenge he feels more ravenous than ever before. He's gotten used to his stomach being a bit too full, so it's not a problem for him anymore. He actually enjoys it in a certain way. And the feeling of accomplishment makes him feel pretty awesome.

Interestingly, however, as the American thinks back, Arthur didn't say a thing when Alfred packed away a whole pizza for lunch. He simply glanced at the American every now and then, with an unreadable expression. Arthur is mysterious sometimes, but Alfred hopes his actions uncover his intentions at least a bit. Arthur acts almost like a parental figure making sure Alfred's not left starving to death. (Which, considering the circumstances, makes no sense)

And that leads to the best part. The best part about all the food-besides, well, _the food itself_ \- is that Arthur spends so much time with him. Every morning and every evening, he finds time to have a meal with Alfred, who appreciates it very much. He craves the Brit's  
attention more than anything else. He enjoys being pampered. Arthur handing him a napkin, Arthur straight-up touching his cheek to wipe away something, Arthur carefully helping Alfred to their room, Arthur being the best friend imaginable.

Alfred knows there's some tension between them, he's not completely oblivious. He's just not fully certain of the outcome. Arthur could be more than his best friend... But does he want to be?

Alfred finds himself flustered, his cheeks heated up. He should go study. To occupy himself.

And so he submerges his head into some book, although he can't concentrate with such a full stomach. Arthur seems to be doing the same, studying, and they spend their afternoon in silence.

By the evening, Alfred is kind of hungry, and the especially cinnamon-y pumpkin pie is gone in the matter of 40 minutes. Francis walks by the table so often it makes Alfred suspicious.  
Arthur is just clearly irritated every time he sees the Frenchman, who doesn't seem to give a single damn.

As they are about to leave, Francis leaves a cupcake on the table. "Here, it's on me." He winks and gives him a flirty smile.

"T-thanks?" Alfred manages to say before the chef is gone, and after a moment, his roommate clears his voice.

"Well, will you eat it? I'd like to go home." His tone sounds as if he were slightly irritated.

"Oh, I'll take it to the dorm-" Alfred quickly mutters. Soon enough they're leaving the patisserie and he doesn't even feel like throwing up. If anything, he feels proud, warm and even a bit turned on, actually not repulsed by the idea of having a cupcake.

They arrive home, Alfred lies down on his bed with a book, taking a bite of the cupcake. It's red velvet, with a generous amount delicious frosting on top. The dough's soft and moist and it melts on his tongue and despite the fact his stomach is really full, he simply can't resist.  
Alfred's eyes shut for a moment, enjoying his bite, but he soon opens them as he hears a sharp, almost unnoticeable inhale- but Alfred notices anyway. He turns to his side, seeing a pair of green eyes looking at him, wide-eyed and fascinated.  
However Arthur quickly glances away, clearing his voice.

Alfred smirks and looks back into his book, taking a big bite of the cupcake. As he does so, he lets out a tiny moan, because firstly, he's been suppressing it anyway and secondly, he wants to see what happens.

Self-satisfied, he inconspicuously keeps an eye on Arthur, who keeps twitching uncomfortably, his face glowing red. All this does something to Arthur. Something Alfred can't quite figure out. Nevertheless he continues, gentle and soft moans escaping his mouth.

It appears Arthur gives up on trying after some time; he stands up and walks into the bathroom.

With the last piece of the treat gone, Alfred looks at the ceiling, thinking about his roommate. He doesn't want to assume much, but Arthur often does things that are a bit gay. He can _feel_ tumblr's screeching because of him putting a label on poor Arthur.  
Then again, Alfred doesn't act really gay, yet his long-term crush is Chris Evans and he'd marry Erza Miller instantly, had he gotten a chance- and not only because his cheekbones are life.

In all honesty, Alfred deeply wishes for Arthur to like boys.

~~~

The following week, Alfred mostly goes to the patisserie alone, especially in the evenings. Francis often sits down next to him, when Arthur doesn't come along. They talk a lot- it feels as if Alfred knew him. Francis seems like a friendly guy. Alfred doesn't understand why Arthur acts so weird when he hears Alfred mention him. He doesn't ask though. On Thursday, Francis invites him to stay a bit longer.

Alfred accepts; he has nothing better to do anyway. Francis brings him a milkshake, which is quite uninvited, given that Alfred has only recently finished a cake and a coffee- but it feels ridiculous to Alfred to turn down a free milkshake. So he sits by the table with a tall glass decorated by a cherry on top of a mountain of whipped cream on the table in front of him, while Francis seems to be cleaning the place. At the moment, he is wiping the glass of the display with cakes, making tiny squeaky noises with every stroke. He looks very dedicated to correcting every little imperfection. That makes Alfred feel curious. After all, Francis owns the place.

"Don't you have your staff to do all that?" He asks, playing with the glass.

Francis stops and turns to Alfred with a grin. "Of course, mon ami~"

"Then why are you... doing that?" Alfred tilts his head, motioning towards the display with his spoon.

"Well, while my staff is awesome and I'm very satisfied with them, only I can make it look... perfect." Francis chuckles. "Perfect my way, obviously."

Alfred simply nods and sips on the milkshake. It's really good. The texture is just thick enough, the taste is just sweet enough, the temperature doesn't make his brain freeze... Francis is a food magician.

"Gosh, how can you make this taste so good?"

"Oh, it's not that difficult~" Francis utters as he returns to cleaning up.

By the time Alfred finishes the drink, he's so engulfed in the conversation (mostly involving topics like food and cooking), he barely notices that the milkshake is gone. The only real indicator is his packed, aching belly.

Francis is also done. He turns the lights off and locks the place. They leave together, Francis offering Alfred a ride home, which Alfred, on the verge of puking again, gladly accepts.

~~~

"Where have you been?" Arthur asks Alfred casually, although he feels rather annoyed. He is lying on the bed, glancing lazily at his roommate, who's just arrived.

Alfred clears his voice. He seems nervous for some reason. "Well- um... I went to gym." He murmurs and heads for the bathroom.

"Oh really?" Arthur narrows his eyes. He doesn't know if he should believe that.

"Of course!" Alfred yells from the bathroom, soon emerges changed into his pajamas and goes to sit down next to Arthur.

He looks him up and down. "Have you showered already?"

"Yes, after the work-out."

Arthur doesn't have a logical reason not to believe Alfred, so he shrugs the suspicion off. What he finds odd is simply that Alfred didn't mention anything about his intention of going to gym; he usually tells Arthur ahead. Not to mention he can't smell Alfred's shower gel.

"Alright then. Did you have a good time?" Arthur keeps his eyes on the other.

"Yeah- totally. I worked out... so hard... I'm kinda sleepy." Alfred yawns, stretching his arms.

"Well, maybe... you should go to sleep."

Alfred stands up lazily. "Sure..." He approaches his bed. "Have a good night~" Lying down, he hides himself in the bedsheets.

"Same to you."

Arthur turns off all the unnecessary lights and carries on reading until the late night. He often finds himself looking at the sleeping American though. Alfred is so distracting and cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this update! Also thanks for all the kudos on the previous chapter, I really appreciate it. ♥ I don't have this story thought through too well because I keep changing everything in my mind but I hope I'll manage to get a clearer picture soon enough. There'll be a bit of drama too I suppose.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm already working on the second chapter, so I hope I won't get stuck writing it. xD


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